Brokeback From Afar
by Tala1
Summary: Four seasons may pass, mountains may wither in age, but love is forever bound to a time and place. Ennis reflects and remembers the love he cannot fathom to ever forgot.


A/N: I don't own Brokeback Mountain. My manager at my work lent me this movie when I inquired about it, as such directly after I wrote this. Its been sitting around for a year. I've been partially afraid to post most of my work because of the quality I think isn't good enough. I finall decided to hell with it. _Spoilers_ for those who -haven't- watched the movie.

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**Brokeback From Afar**

From afar the mountain was a quiet place; serenading its own tune as the winds eased it along into a neutral growth between man and matter. Having dismissed the beauty a great deal before, Ennis Del Mar only could sit by the water edge and cradle its soil in his hands. Rubbing the tiny pebbles away in a haze of memories flashing in and out of focus the longer he watched those furious raging waters roll in on itself like an endless handshake, bearing a weight unworthy to be measured by him. With a gloom smile, barely even that with how his mouth presented an ideal sorrowful expression, Ennis let his hand fall limply to his side. Leaning back in an awkward manner with his spine at an angle while his eye were set in stone, staring straight ahead, beyond the forested better half across the same river he admired and respected. It wasn't just the spot of heavenly serenity; amplifying beauty of his partner he once fucked every outing---

No. Nothing like that. With a twist of his head he could see the smallest footprints engraved in the soil still, even as his eyesight belittled his mind into thinking otherwise. He could pretend, Ennis figured, and ran a palm along its bumpy floor in mid-thought. These little outings; spots lined up in his memories where every detail provided a little closure to times well spent paying homage to becoming the most sincerest thing to an honest life he ever had. _Had _been,being the kicker. Now he only had Brokeback Mountain and an old shirt he thought lost after an enraged violent conflict brought to fruition by a summers irreplaceable end. Said shirt lay on his lap, rumpled like an agitated cat but smoothed out to forgive the creases.

Ennis could only pray by bringing the shirt he could bring the spirit of his lover with him.

Once, twice, three times, Ennis didn't care what time of the year it was anymore. He carried his equipment onboard his sad little rusty excuse of a truck and drove it up to hell and heaven with that aged shirt. Far as he was concerned, Brokeback didn't mean Jack-shit without that rodeo clown. But with the tattered bloodstained cloth spread out, it did. He pictured their conversations the one last time they drank together and mused about the young mans words. That crazy guy had all sorts of ideas waiting to be planted and grown; but like a sheep without wool Ennis realized only now he had pushed the prospect of a further relationship away, all in the name of fear. Because gay men weren't allowed to be open and happy.

Men like him. Men like Jack. Men like that poor bastard turned road kill in the past.

But was he really gay? He argued that fact that he enjoyed both female and male pleasures, thus could depict himself as a bisexual. Yet it did little to justify the indescribable want. The need and _desire _for Jack's body flush against him. Roaming hands all over his chest and kissing his neck in a passionate array of motion. They had been young and foolish then, skirting their jobs even to enjoy a wrestle under the sheets and breath softly into each others embrace as the cold air from the open tent flaps washed their feverish sweaty bodies in welcoming dampness; proven to be an escape from reality. They had a devotion he never openly shared with anyone before—drunken or sober mattered little. A glimmer of a starting spark is all that he needed to confirm love between him and a spouse.

Jack had all that. He had that and more.

Straightening up the remaining man lifted the shirt up with shaky fingers.

A year had passed and his life continued to spiral downhill. His daughter dying shortly after her wedding in a freak accident. His divorced wife caught an incurable disease which no affordable doctor knew what, and only conveyed through a message that she wouldn't last to see the following winter. Jobless Ennis laughed his worries away and hugged his bloodstained shirt to his chest in these times of need.

Pretended the cuffs had hands coming out to hug him lovingly and caress his face telling him in times of need, _"It's alright. Everything will work out in the end"_.

Imagined the gaunt shoulder space where color came in equal patches held a ground where he could lean as hard as he wanted to and still be supported in times of need.

Envisioned where the neckline lay barren and empty, a human counterpart existed so he could escape the world when laying down and whisper away his problems in time of need.

Crinkling the fabric tighter the broken ranch hand felt his face bow. Heaving a soft sigh he didn't let the grief show; naught a tear would be shed on this mountain. Brokeback had become a vital entity to him; providing support in Jack's steed as an emotional driver to remind him from time to time how to live. The least he could do is carry a brave face for his partner and live a life true and in the way he should have from the start. It would take time—he accepted that. But whenever things got rough he talked to the red coated shirt, unable to forget that coaxing summer. A picture lay directly above the shirt slicked with grime, but a photo nonetheless.

And every day he could wander miles away and see that significant looming mountain from afar,

Knowing his partner lived on forever immortalized on Brokeback Mountain.

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A/N: And thats it. Hope you enjoyed. Feedback is nice. Thanks for reading.


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